


Some Dreams Bring the Future

by Rynfinity



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brotherly Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-08 23:02:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3226766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rynfinity/pseuds/Rynfinity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor's mood is no fault of London.  All in all the city is a bustling, charming place.  He had made good friends with the people who would might elsewhere have been his servants and their presence brings him joy.</p><p>He often finds himself wanting to tell the boy who cuts his hair that “my brother designs wallpaper, and is a painter besides,” but Thor always manages to hold his tongue.</p><p>None of that is his story to tell.</p><p> </p><p>This story follows the end of Thor 2 and Iron Man 3, about four years after Loki-as-Odin sends Thor back to London.</p><p>It can be read as a sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/2266722">The Stuff Of Which Dreams Are Made</a> if you would like.  I'm not making them a series, or chapters in a multi-chapter work, as I know some readers liked having <i>The Stuff Of Which Dreams Are Made</i> leave off where it did.</p><p>I liked that too, but today I felt like revisiting its world.  :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Dreams Bring the Future

These days the Midgard standard years - four of them now, two before he knew his brother had survived that last skirmish on Svartalfheim and two since - pass more slowly than Thor would have thought possible. Normally in the lifespan of a god, one such mortal calendar year spirals along and is gone in scarcely more than the blink of an eye. Indeed, when he had visited the realm in decades (and centuries, and more) prior, during the pitifully-squandered age before Loki's fall, all those days had blurred together to such a degree that he struggled at telling one from another.

Even his stay in New Mexico, as illuminating as that ultimately proved, had really felt like nothing so much as the long hours spent hard at work between midday and supper. Some of that may have been the potions – no, the _medicines_ \- they’d given him, sure, but Thor remembers his past visits being much the same.

Since his return here to stay four years ago, though, things have changed. Now, each second feels more like an eternity.

~

His mood is no fault of London. All in all the city is a bustling, charming place. He had made good friends with the people who would might elsewhere have been his servants - the lady who cleans his flat, the lovely older gentleman who packs his foodstuffs each week and drops them off neatly wrapped in the building lobby, the bright young lad who cuts his mane and talks enthusiastically of one day making a living as a sculptor - and their presence brings him joy.

He often finds himself wanting to tell the boy who cuts his hair that “my brother designs wallpaper, and is a painter besides,” but he always manages to hold his tongue.

None of that is his story to tell.

~

Over the past two years Thor has fully mastered the Internet and has spent his considerable spare time familiarizing himself with English-speaking Midgardian idiomata; while he has resigned himself to the fact that he will likely never speak quite like a native, he has in fact rid his speech of most of its awkward phrasing along with what he now recognizes as almost comical misuse of titles.

He does still call Darcy _The Lady Darcy_ , though, just to hear her laugh.

Never a day goes by that Thor could not use more laughter.

~

Every time the pursuit of science brings Jane or Erik - separately on occasion but far more commonly together - to Western Europe, he makes a point of seeing them. Thor even – cheerfully, as she is dear to him and he very much wants for her to be happy - sees Jane with Richard; in the aftermath of the convergence, and of the last ugly battle that followed, she and Richard seem to have become close. Thor has made a special effort to encourage it, knowing as he does that he can likely never be what Jane needs.

Although her research has ultimately long since taken her back to the United States, she and Richard remain good friends (Perhaps it is more? Thor feels it is not his place to inquire) and have always stayed in touch.

Richard is a kindly, gentle man and Thor likes him. He likes him _for Jane_ , who forever chases the sky and consequently needs something to bind her to the earth as well.

~

Darcy and Ian continue to live in London, not far from Thor’s flat. They call themselves "professional students" who “live in sin” and then never fail to laugh uproariously. Thor has researched both terms and found them to be pejorative; consequently he never uses either phrase himself. He has, after all, had enough of war.

He does like the way their faces light up when they direct such comments at one another, though, and so he questions their choice of language not.

~

As more time has passed, too, Thor has found it increasingly easy to speak with his fellow Avengers. Not actually easy, no, but increasingly so as the months roll slowly by.

This is a fortunate development, as his Avengers colleagues do contact him with considerably more regularity in the wake of his first trip back to New York City.

 _That_ trip, the pivotal one during which he learned his brother yet lived.

~

 _Lives_.

~

Nowadays Thor dedicates what his friends – Midgardian and otherwise - would doubtless term _an unhealthy portion_ of each day to keeping tabs on Loki. He carefully studies his brother's habits, preferences, and work. He has spent countless hours poring over Loki's beautiful wallpaper designs - Idunn's orchards, Asgardian birds and mammals which doubtless seem nothing short of fantastic to mortal eyes, delicate repeating patterns from their mother's gardens and her loom - and has near-reverently followed his brother's slow, tentative progression into larger in-situ installments.

Loki's newest works – large, incredibly detailed murals - prove especially appealing: a sweeping night sky which arches high above the grand staircase in the sort of luxurious mortal dwelling that almost rivals Stark's; a stylized representation of none other than Yggdrasil herself gracing the long rough-plastered wall of a chic, cozy California restaurant; small, flurry bears rolling around happily in a child's bedroom, tucked into niches and peeking out from behind furniture artfully stenciled (Thor found that particular technique exceptionally fascinating and has now studied it at great length) - to imitate woodland plants; dolphins leaping out of the water surrounding an indoor pool, somewhat incongruously located in a sprawling country estate near Toronto.

All of his brother's work is both calming and beautifully executed. Thor hopes this means Loki has at long last found some semblance of peace.

~

With the possible exception of his questionable studies (Darcy, the only one in whom he has confided, terms the whole endeavor "stalking." But then she laughs the same way - head thrown back and eyes watering - she does when she is with Ian; Thor has opted to think she approves at some level) he has kept his word; Thor has left Loki alone and has made no attempt whatsoever to contact his brother.

He has also made no attempt to hide himself; it is rather disappointing, then (indeed, when he is being honest with himself, it is _greatly_ so), that Loki has made just as little effort to contact him in return.

~

A few months into his fifth year on Midgard, Thor – still _studying_ with the same fervor as before - hears news of his brother's latest side project. It is said to be a raised, semi-transparent floor (protected "as if by magic" with a secret-formula glaze of Loki's own making) over a recessed and painted koi pond.

Thor has to look up koi. He likes it that his brother keeps him guessing.

It is a commissioned piece, as are all of "Luke Lawson's" – still Loki’s artistic pseudonym; Stark has explained all about diplomatic immunity and restitution, but Thor cannot fault his brother's logic in setting his far more ignominious monikers aside and leaving them there – previous installations and free-standing works. The real difference here is that this installment is being carried out at the whim of an anonymous benefactor.

As is true even in Asgard, the combination of wealth and secrecy on such grand scale draws a tremendous amount of speculation and gossip.

Thor is not in any way complaining; the more press his brother gets, the more there is to read and see.

From what Thor can tell Loki is doing the preliminary work in his own New York facility, in a modest, tapestry-hung atelier above the larger studio. In the open room downstairs, three students continue to hand-screen “Luke’s” wallpaper designs much as they always have. Loki shares first his sketches - the term does not even begin to do their infinite grace justice - and then his delicately hand-colored concept art on his professional blog.

Perhaps it is Loki’s only blog; Thor has spent many the day trying to unearth a more private, personal one and has invariably come up empty. Darcy, self-proclaimed _Interwebz Goddess Extraordinaire_ , has fared exactly the same.

“Luke” is becoming a household sensation. Everything he posts is quickly picked up and recirculated by every social media outlet imaginable.

Thor makes no complaint about that, either. The more, the (actual!) merrier. For weeks at a time he is able to immerse himself in the beauty that is Loki's pond of golden fishes. It is a good and happy thing, and he lets himself savor every last bit of joy it brings him.

~

Stalking, it seems, is contagious. Consequently it is Darcy who makes what can only be the most important discovery of her short mortal lifetime.

Well, yes, that is going by Thor's estimation. Her own opinion may differ, he knows. She does seem incredibly pleased with herself, so he will let himself pretend.

~

_Loki's mysterious benefactor hails from Scotland._

~

The work is to be installed in an old castle, exact whereabouts unknown.

His brother will be practically right beyond the end of Thor's nose.

Secrecy poses no obstacle to a god.

Temptation, on the other hand? Yes, that is invariably quite a challenge.

~

Thor makes his way to Scotland only once, by virtue of Mjolnir’s power and under secure, prudent cover of darkness. He easily locates both the castle and the small stone cottage his brother has leased. It takes much more to fool a god than it does to fool a mortal, and Loki has no real reason to engage in serious deception.

After circling the place - tears streaming down his face and both hands, the one holding the hammer and the one that swings free, clenched into white-knuckled, palm-scoring fists – Thor once again does the right thing and flies home to his own flat.

The weather is nothing but storms, storms, and more storms for days.

Great Britain being Great Britain, no one pays that any mind.

~

Loki posts progress photographs to his blog, each picture cropped tight to avoid inadvertently compromising his patron's privacy.

Thor alternates between bliss and tears with a surprising frequency he's glad no one is here to observe. The whole thing is exhausting. Caring so much drains him and wears him down.

He doesn’t know how to stop.

If he could stop, Thor doesn’t think he would. And he can’t, so anything else is of little accord anyway.

~

He has yet again fallen asleep on his threadbare couch, laptop slid off to rest alongside his hip and “sleep” as his companion until its battery charge expires, when the door chime sounds. It’s far from the first time. Thor has long since learned how to leap up and yet not send his computer flying.

"Tis late even for you, Darcy," he speaks very precisely into the tiny grille. The intercom is one of only a few things here that still regularly elude him. "Is Ian okay? Are you okay?"

When no one answers he expects he has once again failed to master the small thing. Still, he is worried now. "Be right down," he tries, just in case she can hear him, and then (hammer in hand) he heads downstairs to the entry door.

He opens it carefully. This is a city, after all, and even gods prefer avoiding trouble.

As he peers out through the crack Thor is rendered utterly and completely speechless. He drops to one knee without even realizing it. The floor creaks loudly beneath him; Mjolnir smacks painfully against his calf.

 _Loki_ , it seems, has not been struck similarly dumb. "Good evening," he says softly, "brother."


End file.
